


The worst of our nature.

by Signe_chan



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Clint Barton, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, M/M, Omega Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:09:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil turned and went through to his home office, slamming the door to make it perfectly clear to any potted plants that might be listening just how much he did not need Clint Barton and his fucking regressive bullshit.</p><p>In which Phil Coulson is an omega who isn't taking any shit, Clint Barton is alpha who messes up and he knows it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The worst of our nature.

"Fuck you," Phil shouted, hands balling into fists at his side. "You're just like every other fucking alpha after all. I don't know why I expected anything different from you."

He knew the moment the words were out of his mouth that he shouldn't have said them. Clint couldn't have looked more shocked if Phil had actually reached out and punched him. In fact, that would have probably shocked him less. Clint stood there blinking for a few seconds and then turned and, without a word, walked out of their apartment.

Good.

Fuck him and the horse he rode in on. Phil didn't need him. He'd long ago learnt that someone who was going to treat him like he was somehow less than them because he was an omega wasn't worth having in his life and Clint had shown that pretty clearly today so he could leave forever for all Phil cared. He'd coped just fine on his own for years. He certainly didn't need Clint.

He turned and went through to his home office, slamming the door to make it perfectly clear to any potted plants that might be listening just how much he did not need Clint Barton and his fucking regressive bullshit.

Of course, the office didn't help and the pot plants (a sad collection of things slowly wilting from neglect) didn't care. There was still the damn report on his desk. A list of all the ways Clint had made a fool of him today. Right from "I can't do that, Phil," to "I had to protect you, I'm your alpha."

The same bullshit as every other damn alpha Phil had ever met. Really, this was on him. He shouldn't have expected Clint to be any different. Not once his knot got involved. Fucking alphas.

It was pretty clear he wasn't going to get anything done so, with much slamming of doors, he went through into the bedroom and changed into running clothes and then hit the street. Running had always helped him clear his mind and if today he had to go a little further before the repetitive footfalls lulled him into a headspace where he didn't have to think about anything at all, well, that was nothing to do with anything.

10k and a shower later he was back in his office, once again picking up the report on today's incident.

He re-read it a few times. Ran his finger over the words "My omega" in Clint's messy scrawl and tried to resist the urge to start banging doors again. This was why he avoided relationship at work. They ended up in a mess. People couldn't cope with being the alpha at home and then treating him like an equal outside. They thought the fact they got to knot him meant they got to ignore his orders (like Clint had) or go over his head (like Clint had) or do stupid things to protect him when he was perfectly capable of protecting himself (like Clint had).

It was his fault. He'd known this was a bad idea. Known his should have never let Clint in but the ridiculous truth of it all was he wanted Clint. Clint had never acted like Phil was any different to him because he was an omega. He'd always followed orders. He'd always been respectful and, honestly, Phil was tired of spending his heats suffering alone. Clint was young and beautiful and a sarcastic little shit but somehow he'd gotten right under Phil's skin and when Clint had looked at him with that smile and asked if Phil would maybe spend a heat with him he hadn't been able to say no.

He'd been a fool.

He closed the file with a sigh. It wasn't going to get any better, he knew that. He'd deal with the mess tomorrow. Right now...right now he needed food and sleep. It's all make sense in the morning, somehow.

He changed into his most comfortable pajamas, bypassing the old t-shirt of Clint's he had been wearing to bed. That had probably been a stupid move, letting Clint claim him like that, but, well, it had been comforting. The fabric was soft with years of wear and still smelt of Clint even now. When Clint wasn't here he'd slip it on and feel safe, feel like he was home.

He balled the shirt up and threw it into the laundry basket. That was over now. It had to be. Clint was...Clint was something to him but work came first.

He went to the kitchen and made himself pasta with a rich tomato sauce. It was an old family recipe and the familiarity of it soothed him. His mom used to make this after long days when anything else was too much effort and the smell of it reminded him of home, of safety.

Of Clint sitting at his kitchen table with a beautiful smile thanking Phil for sharing this with him like Phil was handing out the secret to world peace and not just a tomato sauce recipe.

Fuck, he was in so much trouble.

He was halfway through his bowl of pasta (and quietly ignoring the fact that his treacherous hands had made enough for two people) when he heard the quiet knock on the door. Almost designed to be missed. There was only one person it could be.

Clint looked surprised when Phil opened the door, almost like he'd expected to be left out there. Phil couldn't deny that he'd considered it for a second or two but they needed to talk and the longer they left it the worse it would be. For both of them.

"I'm sorry," Clint blurted as soon as he realised the door had actually been opened. He looked tired, his hair a mess, his knuckles bruised from punching and Phil wanted to reach out and draw him close. To assure Clint it was going to be alright, that they were going to be alright, but he knew they weren't going to be.

"We need to talk," he said instead, stepping aside and letting Clint shuffle past him. Clint headed straight for the kitchen and Phil followed, gesturing for Clint to help himself to some pasta. It was going to be his last chance, after all. Clint helped himself silently, sitting down across from Phil and pushing the food around his plate, a blank, hopeless look on his face.

Phil almost wanted to just give in and forgive him but he couldn't. Not now.

"I'm sorry," Clint said, spearing a piece of pasta with his fork slowly. "What I did today...I'm so sorry, Phil. I never meant to treat you like that."

"I know you didn't mean to," Phil admitted, picking at his own meal. He wondered if mom's tomato sauce was ever going to offer any kind of comfort again after this conversation. "But the fact is you did."

"I know," Clint said, eyes down.

"You understand we can't do this any more?" Phil said, watching Clint's hand tighten around the fork. "I can't let what's going on between us affect our work relationship. You've made it clear today that you can't separate out private relationship from our work relationship."

"Please," Clint said, daring a look at Phil's eyes. Phil looked away. He didn't want to see the hurt there. This wasn't personal, this was business and he couldn't let any feelings he had for Clint sway him. "I know I messed up today. I know how I messed up. Fuck Phil, I don't even know why I did it. I've watched you take out a man with a paperclip, you weren't in any danger but..."

"But Biology got in that way," Phil said calmly. "And that's why we need to end this. Biology's always going to get in the way, Clint. You're always going to be an alpha and you're always going to want to own me."

"I don't though," Clint said in a rush. "Not consciously, anyway. I've been a massive idiot today because I followed my gut instead of my head, Phil. I won't do that again. I'll take hormone suppressants if you want me to."

"I won't matter," Phil said, staring out of the window into the New York night. "I can't risk this happening again."

"I know," Clint said, and he sounded so damn defeated. "But I need to beat it anyway. What you said, that I was just like other alphas? All my life all I've wanted is to not be like other alphas. I watched my dad tear my family apart to show how much of an alpha he was. I've watched my mentor hurt people to show his dominance. I've heard alphas joke about raping omegas as if it's something to be proud of and I don't ever want to be that, Phil. I promised myself I wouldn't be that but today I treat you like someone who couldn't be trusted. Someone who needed protecting instead of the awesome, competent Agent I know you are so maybe you're right, maybe I do need to step back. Maybe just loving you isn't enough and whatever I do I'm going to end up hurting you because of what I am."

A strained silence fell over the kitchen. Phil dared a glance at Clint to find the younger man looking unhappily at his pasts like he was going to start crying into it any second. He watched him and it hit Phil all at once how much he didn't want Clint to go.

Clint had made a mess, but he knew that. The both knew that but he hadn't expected Clint to come back and agree with him. He'd expected a fight. He'd expected to have to insist Clint go. He'd expected Clint to argue for them, not to accept that he'd made a mistake and that Phil didn't have to forgive him. Maybe, even, that Phil shouldn't forgive him.

But he'd said sorry. His said he wanted to do better and, fuck everything, he'd been doing so well. This was the longest relationship Phil had ever had and what had happened today...it wasn't right but it hadn't happened before and Clint knew what he'd done wrong and he wanted to fix it...

"I'm sorry," Clint said, standing up. "I'll just get my things, if that's alright, and then I'll be out of here. We can talk about work tomorrow. I'm just...I'm just sorry about everything."

It was ridiculous. There were a million good reasons to send Clint away (he'd treat Phil in a way Phil never wanted to be treat) and a million good reasons to forgive him (everyone made mistakes and he seemed genuinely sorry) but the only thing that kept rattling around Phil's head was the "I love you" because Clint had never said it before. Not in words. And he'd never said it either, though he felt it. And he couldn't let Clint go when Clint loved him and he loved Clint and there was a chance they could fix it.

He caught Clint's wrist as Clint moved to walk past him and the other man stopped, waiting.

"Don't go," Phil said, finally. "I forgive you. If you treat me like an incompetent in the field again I won't forgive you but this time, this once, we'll get through this."

Clint sagged like someone had cut his strings. Phil stood quickly and opened his arms to Clint, letting the other man step in close and lay his head on his shoulder. Clint sighed against Phil's skin, pressing as close as he could.

"Thank you," Clint said, squeezing. "I'm sorry. I won't make you regret this."

"I know you won't," Phil assured him, running a hand up and down his back. “We need to talk about this seriously. Maybe we need a word or something I can use to let you know you need to back down?"

"That's a good idea," Clint said, settling his hands on Phil's lower back. "I...are you sure? I'll go if you want, Phil. I swear I will."

"I know you will," Phil said, pressing a soft kiss to Clint's cheek. "That's why I'm going to let you stay. Because you offered to go. Because you respect me enough to not try to force my opinion. Because you said you love me."

"I do," Clint said, turning to kiss Phil. Phil leant into the familiarity of it, letting Clint keep the kiss slow and gentle. He'd always enjoyed kissing Clint. He'd never met anyone who kissed quite so much, especially not in heat, but some evenings they'd just lay there together on the couch and kiss all night.

When he drew back Clint was looking at him like he was something wonderful, something to be admired and Phil wasn't used to alphas looking at him like that either.

"You should eat," he said, stepping back a little. Clint let him go though the way his hands lingered of Phil's body told of his reluctance to do so.

"Yeah," Clint agreed, still making no move to let go. "I just...I'm kind of scared that if we sit down again you'll change your mind."

"I'm not going to," Phil assured him. "I don't take back promises and I promise you a second try."

"Thank you," Clint said. He leant in for one more quick kiss and then stepped back, retreating back around the table and sitting down to finally eat some of the pasta. It was almost cold now but Phil joined him anyway, finishing up his own bowl in silence. He knew this was far from the end of this. They were going to have to renegotiate some boundaries and have some conversations he'd been putting off but, if they could get this right, it was going to be worth fighting for.

He'd fought for Clint before and it had always been worth it. This was no different.


End file.
